


When you Wake.

by Consulting-Dragon (GlitteryAlien)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:50:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitteryAlien/pseuds/Consulting-Dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sherlock received the news that John had been attacked in London he dropped everything in his search for Moran and returned home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When you Wake.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wreckers gif set](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/13371) by sherlockisthebest. 



> Just a quick ficlet inspired by gif set made by sherlockisthebest on tumblr. The gifs are from Wreckers but I was made to think of this somewhat depressing story. This story hasn't been edited or Brit-picked so I apologize for any mistakes. Comments are appreciated!

When Sherlock received the news that John had been attacked in London he dropped everything in his search for Moran and returned home. He had to see John for himself. Needed to see the proof that John was alive. Hurt and a little broken, but alive. 

He sneaked into the hospital, really he needed to speak to Mycroft about better security for John, as it was far too easy. Though Sherlock wasn’t fool enough to believe his overbearing brother didn’t know exactly where Sherlock was at every moment. Mycroft had probably informed his people that a shaggy haired, ginger man would paying a visit to Doctor Watson and that he should be left completely alone. 

When Sherlock arrived at the door to John’s room, Mycroft had naturally gotten John a private space, he eased the door opened silently and cautiously peaked inside. John was fast asleep, no doubt thanks to the machines pumping medicine into his body. Despite the bruises darkening John’s face, a black eye and a rather terrible looking purple welt on his left cheek, Sherlock felt as if he had never seen anyone look so perfect and beautiful. The full impact of how much he missed John hit him harder than a train and tears, unbidden, formed in his tired eyes.    

He quietly lowered himself in the chair beside John’s bed and carefully, oh so carefully, picked up John’s hand and held it in his. More tears rushed to his eyes as he lay a delicate kiss to John’s smaller, darker hand and whispered apologies against his skin. He pressed John’s hand to his stubble covered cheek and breathed in the scent of the man he gave up everything for. 

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock whispered as he pressed another kiss on John’s palm. “I’m so sorry, John.”

John stirred slightly in his bed and Sherlock tensed as John’s eyes flickered beneath his lids. Half of him was begging John to wake up, to see those dark blue eyes sparkling and swimming with warmth. To hear John’s voice, to hear him grant Sherlock the forgiveness his doesn’t and will never deserve. But Sherlock knew it couldn’t be. Not yet. Not when John was still so obviously in danger. 

Closing his eyes and placing one last lingering kiss to John knuckles, Sherlock made to stand up when John’s voice startled him.

“Hmm…who’s there?” he mumbled as he fought off the unconsciousness of the drugs. “Harry? That you?” John blearily tried opened his eyes and Sherlock’s breath caught in his throat. “Hello?” John’s voice was beginning to sound panicky. 

“Shhh..” Sherlock soothed as he placed his hand over John’s eyes. “Go back to sleep, you’re all right. You’re safe, John.” 

Sherlock moved his hand to John’s forehead and brushed back his fringe. “Everything is going to be fine,” he leaned over and pressed a soft kiss into John’s hair. 

” M’ I dreaming?” John asked as he slowly slipped back into sleep.

“Yes, John,” Sherlock told him. “You’re dreaming,” his hand was now cupping John’s cheek, thumb caressing his eyelid. 

John’s eyes opened now and gazed at Sherlock with so much sadness and hope and utter devastation Sherlock felt himself unable to speak. All words were stuck in his throat as he stared into midnight irises that drank his face in like a desperate man dying of thirst.

John’s hand reached out and touched Sherlock’s face, the back of his knuckles sweeping down his cheek, before his fingers traced feverishly over Sherlock’s cheekbone. 

“I don’t want to wake up,” John said in a breathless voice. “Please, Sherlock. I don’t- I can’t- Please. God, don’t leave me again.” John’s voice was tight and clogged now, clearing fighting off the tears threatening to fall. 

Sherlock leaned forward again resting his forehead against John’s. “Shhh. It’s all right, John. I promise someday when you wake up I’ll be here. But for now you have to let me go.” Sherlock pressed more soft kisses to John’s face and hair whispering words filled with promises he wondered if he could keep. 

“Someday, John,” he said over and over again as he watched his friend slip back under to lure of drugs. 

“Promise?” John asked in a voice so far away and quiet that Sherlock barely heard him.

“I promise, John. I swear I’ll give you your miracle.” 


End file.
